Redemption Is Only A Word
by FrostedFox
Summary: “Hello again Theodore.” She whispered. “You look frightened.”
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Redemption is Only a Word

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **"Hello again Theodore." She whispered. "You look frightened."

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T-Bag leant against the chain link fence, a blunt wind causing him to hunch his shoulders and scowl. There were no cold winds in Alabama but Illinois was a different matter.

He closed his eyes momentarily, letting his mind rove back to a time when he was happier.

**She** jumped to mind. That silky golden hair, those innocent blue eyes. She was pretty, she had an untouched beauty.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips as he remembered Lisa McAdams. A sweet girl really, mild-mannered, nice to everyone even the geeky kids in her grade. She was eight years old when she died.

He remembered how she'd followed willingly, curiously concerned for the well being of the imaginary dog Trickster. How gullible she'd been, followed him right into that back ally. She'd looked around for a second and then asked in her angelic voice,

"Where's your dog mister?" that's when the suspicion first began to form and was confirmed as he'd attacked her just a second later.

The twisted smile grew bigger as he remembered how she'd cried and pleaded as he had his way with her. But she eventually grew quiet, and her sweet blue eyes had rolled back into her head as the pain overwhelmed her.

He had waited then, just sitting in that dark place, cradling the eight year-old in his arms. She had woken up eventually, struggled for a moment but then gave in, too drained to keep fighting.

She'd cried silently then and he'd marvelled at the fat drops that slid down her chubby cheeks. But after a while she started to panic again, started crying out for her parents and wanting to go home.

He remembered then how he'd reached up, placing two hands around her thin neck. Really he could have used one, but she'd struggled. He remembered how the pulse in her throat had sped up; thumping against the palm of his hand as he slowly applied more and more pressure. She'd gasped for breath, whimpering and screaming hoarsely but eventually her angelic eyes dimmed. He'd dumped the body in a forgotten well, packed up and left the small suburban town. Last he'd heard Lisa McAdam's body had never been found.

T-Bag opened his eyes but the smile slid from his face. That was a long time ago, and it wasn't until his next victim – some little brat bitch – that had landed him in Fox River. The Badges called that yard time was over and the rest of the cons began to trump inside, T-bag bringing up the rear.

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He was sitting on his bed; listening to the snores of his cellmateabove him, chin resting on his hands as he stared into space. There was a protesting squeal of metal as Maytag rolled over, awakening T-Bag from his reverie.

A chilling wind fluttered through the wing and into his cell, an ethereal susurrus. T-Bag looked up and gasped suddenly, leaping backwards and smacking his back against the cold cement wall of his cell.

"Hello again Theodore." She whispered. "You look frightened." There she stood in the corner of the room, her golden hair hanging limp, the immaculately white top and blue jeans dripping water onto the concrete floor, where she stood only one of her feet in a small sneaker.

She smiled then, and bits of her blonde hair fell into her angelic blue eyes.

"Don't you remember me Theodore?" T-Bag blinked rapidly starred at the form of Lisa McAdams.

"This can't be happening." He whispered hoarsely. "Your not real." Her smile fell from her face, pink lips turning downwards. A frown began to appear on her forehead as tears spilled over her eyelids and ran down her chubby cheeks.

She screwed up her face and balled her fists, the lights outside beginning to flicker. Water began to creep across the floor of the cell, steadily coming faster and faster. T-Bag watched in horror, feeling like he was caught in a whirlwind dream. Lisa opened her mouth - hideously distorting her features – but there was no escaping the blood-curdling scream,

"THEODORE!"

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T-Bag yelled and fought the thin covers, flailing wildly and yelling. He felt his fist connect with something, something warm, something that gave way. Triumphantly he laid into it, beating mercilessly.

Strong hands suddenly grabbed him and tugged him away, throwing him into the opposite wall.

T-Bag crouched there on the floor, breathing heavily and he looked up to see Maytag lying on his bed, unconscious and bleeding.

"Hope you enjoy your stay in the SHU freak." Bellick hissed, yanking him to his feet and marching him out of his cell.

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T-Bag ate his meal in silence then, frowning thoughtfully. Of course it had just been some weird dream that his mind had cooked up. After all he had thought of her the very same day so the only logical explanation would be that his thoughts had remained on that subject.

T-Bag sighed and then stretched, smiling to himself. He felt much better after working that out, and the accidental beating of Maytag would no doubt remind the boy where his place was.

He settled down where he was, shifting every so often to find a more comfortable angle. Slowly, very slowly, time began to slide by and as it went T-Bag's eyes grew heavy.

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He woke with a start and a hand flew to the shank that he had hidden at his side. He leapt to his feet and stared wildly around the room, but of course it was empty. He shivered at the eerie silence and then shivered once again as a soft breeze crept into his cell.

A whimpering sound reached T-Bag's ears and with mounting dread he turned his head and stared into the corner. There she was. Except she was sitting hunched over, her knees hugged to her chest and her golden head down so that her forehead was resting on her knees. She cried softly and water dripped consistently from her clothes.

T-Bag stood, frozen in one spot, his right hand gripping tightly the small knife. Anger bubbled up inside of him suddenly; no she was not real! He would not be controlled by some stupid fucking ghost that his mind had cooked up.

"Fucking SHU." T-Bag muttered and moved over to the tiny bed, sitting down. Lisa looked up then, tears dripping down her face.

"Look what you did to me Theodore." She whispered craning her neck upwards so T-Bag could see the two purple handprint bruises that circled her throat.

T-Bag ignored her however, choosing to look at the other corner and sighing lazily, though his knuckles were white as he continued to clench the knife.

"Theodore?" She was on her feet now and as she walked over her one sneaker squeaked on the wet floor. "Look what you did to me." The girl stopped beside him, smiling softly as he turned his head away. "Don't you remember me Theodore?" She asked.

"This ain't real."

"I remember you." He was shaking now, as he stared at the wet floor her footprints just visible if he looked closely enough. The anger and fear knotted together, building up.

"This ain't real!" He yelled suddenly and swung his right hand around, driving the small knife into the stomach of the eight year old.

She stood for a moment and T-Bag gasped in horror.

"Say my name." She whispered softly.

"This ain't happening."

"Say my name Theodore."

"…. Lisa…Lisa McAdams."

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T-Bag woke with a start, throwing his arms up over his head. He stayed like that for several minutes before nervously peeking out. Nothing. No one was there. He felt for the hilt of the knife that was hidden at his side. Still there, as it had been before he had drifted off.

A laugh rose up in his throat and burst out. T-Bag got to his feet, grinning manically.

"Just another dream." He told himself, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all. But the relieved and slightly crazed laughter died, suddenly choked off as T-Bag looked down. Right there, crossing in front of his path, starting from the corner and going over to his bed, were footprints. Wet footprints that could only belong to a child…

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The days spent in the SHU finally passed and T-Bag was allowed back into General Population, but he was different. He hadn't slept since that last dream of her, every night every waking hour he spent pacing back and forth and when he did sit he positioned himself in an awkward angle so when sleep did finally come his body would slump forward and he would thump his head. The few minutes that he had slept were luckily Lisa McAdams free, but he was so…unfortunately fearful he would scrabble awake and look at the floor; to afraid to look around the cell and to afraid to shut his eyes. What had become of this dangerous predator? He needed to relieve himself of this, it was weirding him out and if he kept on the twitchy manner it would only bring trouble.

T-Bag sat on the hard bleachers, the Alliance around him. His hands were in his pockets and fingers stroked the handle of his shank. Dark eyes skittered everywhere, didn't matter who, just had to be someone. Someone was fucking with his mind and when he found out who they were worse then dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Redemption is Only a Word

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **"Hello again Theodore." She whispered. "You look frightened."

Aquamum: Thanks for the review! Yes I will update, but this is the last one. It's just a short story thing. Thanks again!

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"Look at 'em." T-Bag hissed suddenly, starring moodily at the other side of the yard. "Fuckin' rugheads fillin' up the whole damn yard." The members of the Alliance turned and followed his stare.

"What you wanna start somethin' with these guys T?" Chokey asked, looking back over at T-Bag.

"Bet they're behind it. Fuckin' rugheads. Think they are? Fuckin-Rip 'em- make 'em pay…" Every other word became incoherent mumbling under his breath, he didn't see the glances being exchanged amongst the members but he could feel their uneasiness.

Yard time ended all to slowly and by that time a plan had been hatched. It was full hardy and lacked everything that it should. But nonetheless, T-Bag was sure that it would work.

He walked quickly forward, the Alliance filing in behind him. There was a manic glint in his eyes as he shouldered a black con out of the way.

"Yo man, watch were your goin'." T-Bag turned then, a leering grin slipping across his lips.

"Ya know the problem with you blackies is that once you got your freedom, ya got cocky."

"What you just say man?"

"Oh you heard me boy, I'm sayin' go back to Africa cause you ain't wanted here." The con leapt at him and T-Bag eagerly jumped to meet him. He barely felt the fist that collided with his face as his left hand wrapped around the collar of the other's jacket and his right hand slipped out the shank, ramming the small blade over and over again into the other man's stomach. He felt hot liquid spill over his hands and he went down, the already dead con collapsing on him. Panting, T-Bag slipped the knife back into his pocket and wiggled out from underneath the corpse, putting his hands into the air and sitting up.

"Boy attacked me! Weren't nothin' I could do!" He begin repeating as badges flocked into the yard. "Sorry Boss." T-Bag said to Bellick, pretending to look all shaken up. "Self-defence, he were crazy and just comin' for me. Like I said, weren't nothin' I could do." Bellick glared at him and then slowly a smirk touched his lips.

"And I thought you didn't like solitude."

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Sleep had become wishful thinking. It was always dark, there were always shadows, but they seemed to loom more so in T-Bag's mind.

"Lisa." He called softly and then clenched his hands together. He'd been doing that all day…or all night, or whatever the hell time it was. Silence was the only response that he had.

"You there Baby Blue Eyes?" He called again. Laughter erupted from him and tears stung his eyes, no sleep for a prolonged time could reduce anyone to hysterics. "Ya know I killed a man cause of you. Yup, I may be a murderer, but you drove me to it." T-Bag gave a small giggle. "Hear that Baby Blue Eyes, cause o' you somebody's dead." Still there was no reply and T-Bag gave up, lapsing into silence once again.

The flap opened and food was dumped on the ground. T-Bag scuttled forward then, a feverish light in his eyes.

"Boss! Hold up for a sec, I just-I just need to ask you somethin'."

"Shut up freak."

"Ya, good one Boss, hahahahahaha. But listen, can ya turn on the lights for just a sec. Only, I just want to make sure of somethin'."

"Ha! You belong in the Wack Shack Bagwell." The flap slammed close and the guard's footsteps died away. T-Bag cursed and slithered back into his corner, his shirt reeked of dried blood.

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T-Bag's stomach was like a constricting knot and each time he thought of food the pain would grow more immense. For a while he was able to distract his mind, think on something else, but now the harder he tried not to concentrate on the fact, the worse his hunger became.

The inmate squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his stomach, cursing Lisa McAdams. His body started to rock back and forth as memories from his childhood swamped his mind.

"_I love you Teddy. Special boy. Mommy loves ya." A young woman was whispering feverishly as she rocked her baby back and forth, holding him tightly in her arms. The baby mewed meekly, plump arms and legs squirming in a jerky fashion. The woman began to sing, her voice an off-tune crooning that drowned out the ever-weakening cries of the baby. After a while the mother stopped her song and looked at the now silent child._

_"Why ain't you sayin' somethin' Teddy? Teddy? Wake up baby." The mother picked up her child and held up the small boy before her eyes, watching his arms and legs hang limply, his small round head falling down onto his pale chest. "Teddy why ain't you talkin' to me? Are you mad at me Teddy? I'm sorry Teddy! I'm sorry, just please wake up baby!" She started to shake him first gently and then a little harder so his head was rolling slightly. A frustrated sob escaped from her and tears slid down her cheeks. "Talk to me!"_

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_"Daddy I'm cold." A small boy of seven yelled from the corner of his room, shivering in a snotty grey shirt and dirty underwear._

"_Shut up Teddy, I'm tryin' ta watch the game!" Teddy was silent until he felt the familiar pangs of hunger._

"_Daddy I'm hungry!" He called._

"_Get ya own fuckin' food moron! Old enough to be lookin' after yeself! And if ya don't shut up I'll make ya!" Teddy was still for a moment before clambering to his feet and staggering into the filthy kitchen. He cast a wary glance at his father who had collapsed onto his favourite, and only, chair and was watching the fuzzy TV screen that somehow portrayed a game of baseball. Nervously, the boy climbed up onto the kitchen counter, avoiding old tin cans and beer cans, opening one of the cupboards and peering inside. A slice of stale bread was there and eagerly the boy grabbed it and crammed it into his mouth, chewing greedily. He closed his eyes and worked his jaw hard, savouring the taste. Finally Teddy turned and prepared to jump down, but as he did so, the cans that he had once been so careful of were knocked over and Teddy fell to the floor, a shrill scream echoing in the kitchen as a tin can lid cut open his palm._

"_I thought I told you to shut the fuck up!"_

T-Bag grimaced and opened his eyes, peering up into the layers of darkness. For so long he had been staying alive, fighting to survive. And for what? Only to wait for death? Well hell no! T-Bag was his own man, and he'd die on his own terms!

Feverishly he grabbed the sparse blanket that covered the cast iron bed and began to knot it, all the while muttering darkly. As soon as he was done, he carefully laid the makeshift rope on themattress and then climbed atop the bed, reaching out into the darkness and feeling the small pipes that ran along the top of the cell. The engineers who had built this place had been merciful.

T-Bag continued to mutter as he picked up the twisted bed sheet and first tied it around the pipe and then slipped the noose over his own neck.

_"You've got the scrawniest neck I've ever seen Teddy. Ya know that? I could snap it right now if I wanted to. I could fucking kill you if I wanted to"_

"Fuck you!" T-Bag screamed suddenly, tears clouding his vision. A slight breeze crawled into the cell and then became a howling inferno as T-Bag's mutterings now rose to enraged screams.

Lisa McAdams sat on the bed, those sad angelic blue eyes on her murderer and her pink lips turned downwards.

"What do you want from me!" T-Bag screamed, snot running from his nose and onto his lips as saliva dribbled down his chin. "What the fuck do you want from me!" The girl began to hum and her lips turned upwards into a small smile as shesang out a nursery rhyme in her sweet childish voice.

"Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top..."

"Leave me alone! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

"When the wind blows the cradle will rock..."

_"You ain't smart Teddy. You're a freak. A retarded freak."_

"When the blough breaks the cradle will fall..."

"_I love you Teddy. I didn't mean to hurt you."_

"And down will come baby, cradle and all."


End file.
